With him, there are no wounds open to burn or sizzleJust pushing against laytexWith skirt raised and thighs slathered in sweatToo numb to flinch off words that cut girl’s fleshIn between the midnight hours

He is not your first, surely not the last man to find you tipsy and writhering under his gazePolitics baiting hopeful tongue for some attention

More recognition than the pretty legs and eyes You’ve been cited for

And you will wait for them to catch up with youPushing against his overeagerness, too hard to feelWhere you really come fromYou’ve learned to fuck for forgivenessFor esteem leaves you in puddles around anklesBegging the whispers in your head to cease

Still, silence won’t greet you until hours passAfter you roll away from his flesh flushed of liquidAnd possible childrenAfter your thighs stop aching from unclaimed fingerprintsAfter the morning glare reveals his last grasp for your beauty

Saturday, February 17, 2007

that day of red that most single people were conditioned to despise, came and went. it was nice for me. as i was surprised with something really beautiful. and him in his all knowing - knew exactly what to get me... though, its funny. i remember sitting in high school home room praying my sweetheart would get me one of those flower-grams that our high school sponsored with a nominal fee.

i dont remember if i ever got it. but i do remember just wanting to feel loved. and more importantly. watching everyone, watch me FEEL LOVE. cause that's what its all about, right? PDA at its grossiest. i mean. when else can you walk around with flowers and candies and teddy bears and hickies on neck (stay with me) and be applauded, for someone loving you so!

and i dont want to hear that "it should happen every day" -- you damn right it should! but does it? probably not.

and that's me in all my wierdness. ive been having a moment, of late. a bit of a sticky situation at a school where i teach poetry. after the event of madness, i was left feeling like a teenage girl from northern california with a color complex all over again. it was not a good feeling. and i left feeling all of 15 years old. vunerable and unworthy. it took me a couple of days to get it out of my system, before i had to return to this class. and i thought i'd be able to cleanse myself of that ugliness. but after two classes (one of which was cancelled)... i decided. im not over it.

my last day at that school will be the first friday of march.

it was a pill to swallow. but i felt it in my bones. the unhappiness that clinges to your matter and swishes itself around the parts that work well -- until, well. they dont. so now im feeling bad. for giving up. for being weak. for not being "adult" enough to just ignore it. for not being "spiritual" enough to turn the other cheek. and then i let it go. realized, i am human and of flesh. and hurt like everyone else. i cant be the superheroine all the time. so its ok to retreat when things get too tough. not that im a quitter.

or maybe i am. either way. this is what was best for me at the time and im willing to live with it.

as soon as i allowed myself to breath in that difficulty, i allowed blessings to walk thru the door. and i received a new residency fitting perfectly in my schedule where the other class was removed.

and now im back to being the artist.

with my new book out and about. i have sold over 100 books in less than 60 days. i haven't been touring, as i have a maniac to think of -- and honestly, her lead role in The Wiz is way more important. word. but i have little things here and there. (check the calendar) and this excites me, as i get to go to my home away from home, that is england -- and pay homage to a dear friend dike, as well as, an organization for single parents, underprivileged and newly clean teens. im honored to return for the program's farewell and feel it couldnt come at a better time in my life.

soon after that. i will be returning with my good friend, Kevin Powell, in the restart of a hip hop movement "HIP HOP SPEAKS" a quarterely forum focusing on the culture and its obligation to the community. i produce the emcee battle segment (which element of hip hop is that) and cant wait to be a part of it once again...its a part of me that i think i miss most. i mean, i came to NYC as a hip hop journalist and remained as a poet... but hey... it's all relative, right?

lastly,

i will be under the knife again. the first week of april (during my spring break) instead of hitting the beaches of miami or mexico -- i will be getting my foot worked on. yes, again. it is the last step for me to wear shoes again properly -- and if you know me, you know i miss wearing adidias, converse, italian leather and stilettos... this operation will leave me in a bed rest setting for atleast 6 weeks... something i can't allow, as i only have a week and a half off.. but hey. ive made harder things work in less time.

so im back to the lab. sheroshima pre-orders are being mailed (finally) next week. and i am already in the brainstorming process for something beautiful and new and fresh and fun... you'll see